Only a Memory
by winchester-co
Summary: The old world is gone. Sam destroyed it, leaving a shell of a former life and few survivors to pick up the pieces. Dean fled, but now Sam's caught up to him; Sam won't let him die, but will he even want to live when he sees what his brother has become? Warnings: Boyking!Sam, Wincest, non-con (not for long), graphic violence.
1. Chapter 1

Only a Memory

Warnings: Graphic non-con (which will not last forever), Wincest, graphic depictions of violence. Boyking!Sam

Hi guys! This is VERY different to anything I've ever written before, but I really wanted to get it down before my brain exploded. Anyway, hope you enjoy, but heed the warnings: don't like, don't read it please!

Dean took in the scene before him silently, struggling to hear past the deafening mix of the thud thud thud of his heart and the screaming panic making black voids blur his vision.

A smile; a twitch of the lips that barely lasted a second, but expressed the true extent of the man's internal smug satisfaction. His triumph. "Hi Dean."

Grey eyes. High level demon.

Dean fingers twitched, seeking the demon killing knife instinctively, but managed to suppress the urge by clenching his fists. His jaw tightened as his eyes flickered around Bobby's living room, the need to rush forwards - to plead, to SCREAM -making him physically tremble.

Bobby.

The son of a bitch was possessing Bobby.

"Get out of him." He growled; it was the only pitch he could maintain without a detectable tremor. If this bastard had done anything to Bobby while he was gone, the only god damn person who didn't blame him for the end of times, blood was going to spill. "Now!"

The demon tutted, chuckling. It was so painfully familiar, so typically BOBBY, that it made Dean's stomach turn and bile sting the back to his throat. He swallowed hard, having to look away, jaw clenched and hands trembling. When he turned back, he forced himself to focus on the simmering anger under his skin.

Rather that than fear. Because he knew exactly what this demon being here meant for him.

"Sorry Dean, can't do that," Bo...the demon practically purred. "But you know what YOU'RE gonna do?" He took a step forwards, eyes flashing back to Bobby's natural dark brown colour. Dean tensed, standing his ground. "You're gonna be a good little bitch and stay exactly where you are so that I can summon Sam."

All anger and fight that had previously enveloped Dean drained away instantaneously, along with most of the blood in his face. His heart stuttered painfully in his chest, body hyper-alert in panic. "No, wait-" he choked out.

"Yes DEAN," he took a step forwards, eyes flicking pointedly to the door. "And I think your girlfriends agree with me Winchester."

Dean's blood ran cold and he turned sharply to the door. Ellen and Jo, who he'd told to go upstairs dammit, were being held by two other demons, mouths covered and eyes wide as they stared at him. They were trying to speak to him, jerking away from their captors, but their efforts were fruitless. Dean didn't understand a word.

"Play the game Dean," the demon behind him spoke brightly, sounding far too cheerful considering the glare Dean sent him.

But the rewards for handing him in were immense, that much Dean knew; the son of a bitch had a right to be pleased.

The demon pointed to him, grinning and moving around the room, deliberately avoiding the key of Solomon. "You stay put while I summon your brother and everyone lives!" Dean's expression remained stony.

The demon pouted; a look that was truly hideous on Bobby's face. "C'mon Dean, it's a good deal; better than any the other demons would have given you."

Dean didn't care; he would rather the demon stab him than face his brother. What his brother wanted him to do - he'd rather die.

But he couldn't let Bobby, Ellen and Jo die. He wouldn't - he couldn't. They were everything; his only friends in the dystopian world his brother had created.

He had to keep them safe.

He shut his eyes, head bowed, and murmured. "Do it."

The demon inclined his head, though his eyes glittered smugly. "Sorry, didn't quite catch that."

Dean lifted his head and practically shouted. "Do it!" He gritted his teeth tightly, deliberately ignoring the muffled sound of Ellen and Jo screaming at him. "Summon the son of a bitch here. Just make sure you let them go."

The demon grinned. "Of course." He shut his eyes, mumbling under his breath. The demons holding Ellen and Jo moved away from them, shoving them towards Dean before leaving through the front door; he could see them smoking out of their meatsuit's from the window.

Ellen had tears in her eyes, mouth a thin line and wobbling. Dean couldn't look at her.

Dean only had a moment to acknowledge the heaviness of the air and push the two hunters away from him, feeling the raw undiluted panic that came with Sam's overbearing presence; only a moment later, a hand closed softly around his neck and stroked the fine hairs there gently. The hand was too warm, bordering on painful, but not pressing hard enough to cause any real damage.

He shut his eyes as he felt his brother nuzzle the soft skin behind his ear with his nose, tongue darting out for a split-second to taste before whispering; his voice was deep, practically a purr.

"Dean."

That one word was enough to send cold shivers down his spine, though the breath was hot on his ear; if he clenched his jaw anymore, Dean was sure he was going to crack a tooth.

"Are you done running now?"

Dean was quiet for a moment, heart beating loud enough that he was sure everyone could hear it. He tried to ignore the raging silence in the room, broken only by Bobby's barely stifled moans and Jo's quiet sobs.

Bobby was struggling not to choke on his words. "Dean- d-don't! You-" A wave of oppressive power, a quiet cry of pain, and Bobby fell silent. Dean still refused to look.

He didn't want to see his brother's yellow eyes.

Dean's voice was barely audible, trying to keep his voice steady as Sam stroked his thumb absentminded my across his jugular. "For now."

The temperature in the room dropped significantly, crackling with an unseen electricity that he just KNEW was his brothers suppressed anger. The hand stroking his neck stilled; Dean immediately realised that it would have been easier if he had just said yes. He was going with Sam either way.

Sam's hand suddenly tightened and Dean's own hands jerked in alarm to push them away, failing miserably as his brother just held both arms in an iron grip and twisted them behind his back.

Pain suddenly exploded, well, EVERYWHERE, like electricity. It ran through his arms, from Sam, through his chest, down his legs; it tore a choked scream from his throat that made his own ears ring.

Eyes snapping open, his legs gave out on him; his vision darkened but didn't completely give out. He wasn't granted that mercy.

It took Dean several seconds to realise Sam was talking to him. "Wrong answer," Sam's voice was too light considering that Dean was basically being held up by his brother, pressed to his chest tightly as Sam cooed soothingly in his ear. It made him want to gag. "You're mine Dean."

Dean's eyes slid shut once more.

"You leave them alone," He murmured, voice wrecked and barely audible. His jaw trembled. "You keep the demons away and you let them live- do you understand me?"

Sam laughed; a soft breathy sound that made Dean's skin crawl. "Perfectly," he assured. "But why should I? What makes you think that I have the slightest inclination to do anything you say?"

Dean opened his eyes slowly and turned his head slightly. "Because I swear to god, anything happens to them," he threatened vehemently. "And I won't do a fucking you ask me to-"

Sam laughs again- properly this time, body shaking with it and letting his forehead rest on Dean's shoulder. For the first time, Dean looks over to Jo, Ellen and Bobby while he has the chance. They're pale, shaking; Bobby's on the floor, too-wet eyes trained on Sam unwaveringly as his jaw trembled, Ellen propping him up against her as best as she can, watching the scene before her with wide and frightened eyes. Jo was watching, but residual tears were wet in her cheeks.

Sam finally finished, still expelling breaths of residual laughter. "Dean," For the first time since this shit started, his brother sounds almost like he used to. Voice genuinely amused and light, like he'd done something particularly funny. "What makes you think I'm going to need or want you to do anything willingly?"

Dean's heart plummeted in his chest. The room was completely silent.

"Let me make this clear to you," his voice has lowered slightly, but the patronising and mocking tone is still there. "This," he grips Dean's arms tightly, plastering himself against his older brother's body so that his body can feel every inch of him. "Is not going to be a relationship. I don't want you to kiss my ass and love me, do what I want without question; don't need you to." He leaned in close to Dean, who was trying his best not to fall apart.

"This is a dictatorship," Sam hissed, biting Dean's earlobe hard enough to make Dean jerk and gasp in surprise. "I own you now. You don't get a choice- whether I get your consent is up to you, but I'm taking what I want whether you want to give it or not." He kissed gently at the side of his brother's face, making Dean nearly whimper. "Do YOU understand, Dean?"

Dean gagged, choking on the bile that had been forming since the start of this conversation and spitting it onto the floor.

He felt Sam smile against his neck. "Good."


	2. Chapter 2

Hi again, second chapter up! I'm powering through this haha!

Anyway, hope you enjoy; this took a lot to put together x

I'd love to hear what you think of it so far, so reviews would he much appreciated please!

Hell was organised. More so than Dean had ever expected it to be if he was honest; he was certain that it was mostly to do with Sam.

Meg's description of hell, however, was accurate.

'A prison prison, made of bone and flesh and blood and fear'

Alarmingly accurate. Luckily, Dean only had to go there just the once and he hadn't had to enter the world outside of the building Sam had transported him to.

He could hear the screams inside the building's moulding black walls almost as well as if he had been standing outside. He had never been more grateful in his life for his brother's presence.

The miscellaneous demons that passed in hallways looked at him like he was a piece of meat. If Sam wasn't pressed so closely to him, a hand lightly brushing the skin under the hem of his shirt, Dean was sure they would have thrown him outside and ripped him apart.

What disturbed Dean more than anything, apart from the fact that they were in hell and Sam hadn't told him why, was the fact that here you could see a demon's true face underneath the mirage of their previous vessel's body.

They were ripped up and burnt dark, eyes black and feral; hungry. Occasionally the eyes were missing completely and the skin around where they should be was siphoned away, revealing white bone through thick charred flesh.

When they smiled at him, mouths pulled open through dried blood to reveal teeth stained crimson, their skin cracked and bled, black blood oozing sluggishly down their faces and mixing with the congealed messes that already existed on their neck and cheeks.

Dean did his best to not look too closely.

When Sam stopped, finally, in front of a door to Dean's left, he didn't bother knocking before opening it and pulling his older brother with him.

Irritated, Dean tried to push his brothers arm off him but Sam was immovable and held fast. Dean's jaw clenched in irritation, but when Sam glanced down at him, glaring darkly, Dean swallowed thickly.

"This him?" Inside, a demon - possessing someone much to Dean's surprise - looked up and stood from where he was sitting at a table and bowed, looking at Dean and Sam with little interest.

"Yes," He looked expectantly at the demon. "Do you have it?" The demon smiled slightly and turned around to open a draw, pulling out a thick black collar. It had no distinguishing features at all, simple and without any marks at all, but it made Dean's stomach churn just looking at it.

"I'm not wearing that," he blurted.

Sam didn't even look at him, taking the collar from the demon and inspecting it more closely. "Yes you are Dean." His whole body oozed a quiet frustration that warned 'This isn't up for discussion'.

Dean protested. "But-"

Sam glanced at him and Dean suddenly lost all ability to speak.

Literally.

He opened and shut his mouth, breathing harshly in an attempt to make his vocal cords work, but his efforts were fruitless. He couldn't say a word. Dean glared at his brother, too pissed to even think of being afraid, and clenched his fists.

Sam looked away and back to the collar. "So what's the range on it?"

The demon furrowed his brow, crossing his arms in thought. "I'd say about a mile," he spoke with certainty. "Maybe a little more- but how close you are will influence the degree of... control."

Sam was nodding, looking thoughtfully between Dean and the demon before motioning to Dean. "Come here."

Dean stood stoically, face blank but stubborn; there was no way in hell he was going to play this game. He wasn't going to let Sam make the demons think he was going to be his brother's obedient little bitch, because that sure as fuck wasn't what he was going to do.

He was going to fight this, kicking and screaming, in every inch of any direction his brother forced him to move.

Sam continued to look at him steadily and, to Dean's surprise, made his own way over. He unclipped the collar, the mechanics for which Dean couldn't see, and briefly brushed his brother's shoulder with one hand. Dean shut his eyes when he couldn't move his feet, standing very still as his brother stepped behind him and carefully clipped the hideous black thing in place.

It made his brother's promise to him at Bobby's seem too real, too near, and he shivered.

Dean couldn't contain his surprised gasp when the collar constricted suddenly, his hands rising quickly to try loosen the uncomfortable tightness, but Sam intercepted him effortlessly and gripped Dean's hands tightly in his own, pulling them down and slightly behind him. Dean could feel his brother's intense gaze on his neck, hot and contemplative, as he inspected the collar.

"What do you think?" The demon asked quietly, for the first time sounding slightly uncertain, much to Dean's vindictive satisfaction.

Sam's forehead came to rest against the side of Dean's face, breath warm on his cheeks. "I like it."

"Thank you sir." The demon was relieved. Dean glowered, stony, looking nowhere but at the opposite wall.

Sam turned his head to look directly at the demon, smiling. "Go." The demon said nothing and left without a word.

Wordlessly, Sam nuzzled his face into Dean's neck, pressing gentle open mouthed kisses into his brother's skin, tonguing at the edge of the collar and making Dean's skin electrify unexpectedly; the feeling was foreign. A flicker of unease made his chest contract. "Sam..."

"It's not just a collar," Sam murmured into his neck. "It's infused with some of my power- like a cursed object. Sort of. You can feel what I feel; to a certain extent, of course," He laughed breathily, lifting his head and releasing his brother's hands. "Nothing you need to worry about."

"The demon said your proximity would affect the level of control," Dean spoke evenly, not buying what Sam was saying for a second and refusing to look at him. If he did, he might say or do something he was POSITIVE he would regret. "I'm not stupid Sam. Control of what?"

Sam was silent for a while, fiddling idly with the hem of Dean's shirt; a plain black tee was all he was allowed now. No flannels, no jackets. "You." Dean's heart dropped into his chest. "I can restrict when you can move, when you can talk; if I'm in range I can teleport to you."

Dean's head was spinning, his pulse thudding almost audibly against the collar, and he shook his head. "Come on Sam," he spoke lightly. "You don't need this thing to keep a hold on me. You can do that pretty well on your own with all that freaky demon shit right?" He was being less sensitive about his brothers powers than he felt comfortable being, but he knew there was no other way to phrase it.

His brother huffed, not a laugh, and stepped back from him. "Not just for me though Dean," He spoke, voice colder than it had been previously. Dean stiffened as his brother walked around to face him, brow raised. "It's to make sure all the demons know that they can't fuck with something that's not theirs." Sam regarded him cooly, eyes capturing his. "And it's also to remind you of who you belong to."

Dean glared. "I'm not anyone's Sam," he hissed. "And I'm definitely not yours."

Sam said nothing, staring expressionlessly down at him. "That's why we need the collar Dean," Sam spoke quietly, sparks of his anger sending ice up Dean's spine. "Because you're wrong."


End file.
